


The Foal

by Tortellini



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Episode: s02e09 Christmas at Downton Abbey, Gen, Humor, Season/Series 02, Thomas Barrow Loves Unicorns, Unicorns, Weird Fluff, Weird Plot Shit, Weirdness, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24982408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tortellini/pseuds/Tortellini
Summary: While looking for Isis the dog, Thomas Barrow...finds something else.Oneshot/drabble
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	The Foal

“Isis! Isis, where are you, you bloody stupid dog?” 

Thomas Barrow was having a bad day—well, worse than usual. He had had a brilliant idea on how to make His Lordship trust him again—first, steal his dog Isis. And then find her and return her.

Well, it made more sense in his head, at least.

Anyway, it was all going great. There was all the things that made Thomas smirk—drama, angst, something lost…

Yeah, everything had been going great. No one could find the dog—Thomas had hid her in a shed in the middle of the woods—and very early in the morning, Thomas went back to get her. His Lordship would get his precious doggy back, and Thomas would get his award—a long-awaited promotion. 

Well, there was only one very slight minor detail here: he couldn’t find the bloody animal. She wasn’t in the shed anymore.

He wasn’t even thinking of his job anymore. The dog wasn’t actually supposed to be lost! 

The woods seemed to close around him as he looked for her. And—didn’t this tree look familiar? Oh, who was he kidding: it was a _tree._ He took a deep breath; he _would not cry._ He was Corporal Thomas (Eugene) Barrow. He would not cry…

“Isis! Is—ooof!”

A tree root seemed to pop out of nowhere under his feet, and Thomas landed hard on his face. Dirt and bits of twigs fell in his hair and smudged his face. When he sat up, his palms were red and stinging…

He couldn’t help it. Angry frustrated tears welled in his eyes, and he almost made himself sick, holding them in. Despite his efforts, one lone tear rolled down his face, leaving a dirty line.

“Stupid bloody dog—I don’t care if you do came back,” Thomas hissed to himself, wiping his eyes and starting to stand up. But he cried out softly at a sharp pain in his knees. “Damn—!” He swore at the pain. “Lordy, why does _everything_ always happen to me?”

Something whimpered behind him. He froze. There was no way he could move, with his legs hurt—no one would hear him scream out here—

“Isis…?” He slowly turned around. 

It was… a foal, of some sorts. All white. Painfully, he inched himself over to where it lay.

“Hey little fella,” he said softly. “Can’t believe I was ‘fraid of you. Whatcha doin’ out here by y’self?”

The white foal lifted its head, big green eyes staring peacefully back at him.

And then Thomas Barrow, who had seen a number of strange things in his life, nearly fainted.

This…was no foal. 

It had a tiny soft-looking white horn, coming out of its forehead. He swallowed.

“Are you…are you a unicorn, little fella?” He whispered faintly. 

The foal blinked…and leaned its head forward. Thomas flinched (just his luck, the unicorn would be rabid, and stab him to death…). But instead, it rested its horn on his hurt leg…and suddenly it didn’t hurt anymore. Thomas couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks,” he whispered. The foal slowly got up, stared at him one last time, and bounded away. Thomas stood up unsteadily.

“Wait—don’t go!”

“Thomas?”

He turned, panting heavily. His Lordship, the Lord of Grantham, stood before him. He gave the younger man an odd look. And…there was Isis, at the man’s feet. 

Thomas took a deep breath. “Sir, did you see--?”

“What’re you talking about? No one was there. Come on, Thomas. You’re just tired.” He turned away and started to walk back to Downton.

Thomas slowly followed. He knew the truth. And now—scornful to everyone else still, mind you—he believed: there was still good out there, along with the bad. 

A small smile on his lips, he walked back to Downton.


End file.
